


you talk like a man and taste like the sun

by mother_hearted



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Aftercare, Body Image, Bottom Claude von Riegan, Bottom Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd, Choking, Established Relationship, Feet, Hand Jobs, High Heels, Kinktober 2020, Letters, Lingerie, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Multiple Orgasms, Oral Sex, Praise Kink, Sex Dreams, Stomach Ache, Sub Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd, Wet & Messy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-01
Updated: 2020-12-07
Packaged: 2021-03-07 17:54:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 10,233
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26751667
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mother_hearted/pseuds/mother_hearted
Summary: The sense of play he had as a child has returned to him. He never realized how much he missed it. He looks over to the direction of Claude's office and feels his throat tighten right up. Emotion grips him and in that moment he knows he'll thank him for the rest of their life together. For helping Dimitri help himself find the someone he thought was lost for good.They play games. Banter. Share stories and one off dreams with one another. It makes Dimitri greedy for more, now that he's here.(or: diarthrosis' ficlets for october, featuring her favorite husbands.)
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Claude von Riegan
Comments: 73
Kudos: 159





	1. Praise Kink

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! My 20 day self-imposed challenge for October is here and I'm starting us off with something light and silly. The work as a whole is rated E but as all my chapters are standalones, they'll receive their own ratings.
> 
> Today's piece was inspired by this darling [spring bunny Dimitri.](https://twitter.com/Ouroridae/status/1240972364570963968?s=20)
> 
> Rated T for praise kink and Claude being handsy.
> 
> Set in my Almyran husbands AU.

Claude doesn't believe it when he sees the ink drawn costume details by none other than Elaine. He doesn't believe it while sitting through meetings with old ignorant lords who have no consideration for the people they govern. He doesn't believe it after hearing part time staff popping in from town, sharing tales of merriment from the festival. 

He only believes it when he returns to his bedroom later and finds Dimitri just arriving himself. 

"Gods and goddesses, they were serious!"

"Claude, please, do not -"

"How did they get you to agree to this!" Claude grins, cheeky and sharp without pause. "The town hall asked you to volunteer for their little festival of cheer, didn't they? And out of the goodness of your heart, you didn't ask any questions about your requested _appearance,_ right?"

Dimitri huffs. One ear perfectly flopped over. He's as ridiculous as he's darling. Claude can't believe he almost tricked himself into missing out on this. Dimitri moves to take off his ears and Claude nearly flings himself across the room to get his hands on Dimitri's forearms to stop him. 

"Hey, not so fast, I haven't had time to drink in the view."

Dimitri's brow knits incredulously. "What view? If you want to laugh at me, go on. I will not take it personally."

"Uh. No. I'm not going to do that?"

"Why not? All of this," Dimitri gestures to himself, all gorgeous muscle and scarred man in a skimpy costume with faux armor, tailored perfectly to fit him. (Claude owes Elaine a very, very nice bottle of liquor.) When Claude's expression of disbelief doesn't budge, Dimitri continues. "They wanted me to add some levity, what else does this look like?"

"I can assure you, Dima, that's not why they asked you to wear this."

"I look like a clown."

Claude shakes his head, smile on his face warm and adoring when he looks up at Dimitri. "You do look silly, I'll give you that. You can't exactly show up to war or its council in this." And his smile heats up, curling with mischief. "But a hot, hunky nobleman showing up in town square in this outfit? People would _pay_ to see this, and here you were giving out flowers for free." His fingers slides up over his chest to rest on his shoulders. "Tell me the truth, how many people actually laughed _at_ you today."

Dimitri's silence is answer enough. Exactly what Claude expected. Has him feeling smug, that Dimitri might have had the wrong idea, but was willing to wear this outfit in public, and that confidence must've showed. Put off anyone who might've thought to go out of their way and say something to him. 

Claude lifts onto his toes to kiss Dimitri's cheek. "I've been stuck in my office all day, kind enough to give my staff some time to enjoy the holiday. It's only fair I get my time too, hm? Turn around, show me that cute cottontail of yours."

Dimitri doesn't try to stop his heavy snort. "If you ask me to hop next I will walk out of this room."

"Aw, come on!" Claude laughs. Pulls Dimitri down to press a proper kiss to his lips. "Can't blame a deer for fawning over a rabbit as cute as you."

"I thought you were only interested in lions?"

"I'm an open minded deer, I like my carnivores and my herbivores." He winks. "You could use a smooch, too, and I'm the deer for the job."

And that seems to do that trick, loosening up Dimitri enough he huffs, fondly exasperated. "Kiss me, my deer, before you sound as ridiculous as I look."

Dimitri uses their kiss to slip off his ears but Claude still gets a fistful of his tail. Dimitri's resounding grumble quickly turns into a groan when Claude's hand shifts to his ass, getting in a firm squeeze. 

"That's, hn, cheating."

"Oh yeah? Aren't you a cheat too, your hands are always on my ass."

"Not right this second," Dimitri laughs. 

"Not yet," Claude corrects. 

His fingers draw a teasing line between Dimitri's cheeks and Dimitri practically shivers up onto his toes. 

"You're so sexy, Dima. What would a deer have to do to get a pin-up of you commissioned just like this?"

"Nothing. I would not." Dimitri squints at him. "What would you do with such a thing?"

Claude smirks, "Admire you? Drool over you while you're away shaping young minds?" Claude's imagination already serves him well in that department but it still makes for a fun idea. He can see the disbelief hasn't quite left Dimitri's face just yet, and Claude gentles his tone, less intent to rile, more a match with the soothing strokes of his palms along Dimitri's sides. "Your costume actually fits you, it shows off your shape. I like how you fill my hands. Like this." He finds his backside again but this time doesn't squeeze, merely holds him. Dimitri's expression starts to melt. 

"Claude, I..."

"Do you like this silly outfit?" Claude asks him outright, thinking he already knows his answer by the fact Dimitri hasn't made a move to take anything else off.

Dimitri takes a suspicious amount of time to answer, "...it is surprisingly comfortable."

"You do." Claude stretches up to kiss him. "And I do too. It shows off all your curves, you look so strong."

"Ah..."

He must have enjoyed himself today, to let Claude compliment him so much without interrupting. Claude is in no hurry to ruin his husband's fun, or his own for that matter, and keeps kissing him, keeps his hands on his body.

"My sweet rabbit, I'm gonna keep kissing you."

"Yes," Dimitri says, already drunk on Claude's kisses. 

Claude grins and walks them over to their bed, where he slides onto Dimitri's lap and traps him for good.


	2. Aftercare

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Being taken care of is difficult for Claude, who will even go out of his way to hide a stomachache.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rated G, feat. Claude overeating and being comforted by Dimitri.
> 
> Set in my Almyran husbands AU.

Once in his youth, he claimed with sauce smeared all over his chin, when it came to food there was no such as “too much of a good thing.” At the ripe old age of twenty five his body has called his bluff and Claude wants to blame the war and the countless sleepless nights his brain has inflicted on him for aging him prematurely. Blame even the banquet itself, filled with too many delicacies, including vibrant greens seasoned to perfection and a poultry stew that had no business warming him from head to toe in the most lovely way.

He’d wrapped his cloak around him tightly when he caught the bloated bulge of his stomach, hyperconscious of Dimitri getting an eyeful as they made their way home. He moves with plans to sequester himself off in his library, coax his body into calming down some… when he catches Dimitri’s attention with the way he stays bundled indoors. 

“Claude, are you unwell?”

“Nope!” Claude immediately turns to grab his books from his desk. “Just a little chilled, you know how the breeze goes right through me.” He spins away only to run right into Dimitri. 

Dimitri peers down at him, a frustratingly persistent wall. “You barely wore shirt sleeves last night.”

_Why does he always choose these sorts of moments to do detective work!_

“I am a man of many fashions. Now scoot, love, I have work that needs wrapping up.”

“No, I am not letting you work all hours into the night if you are coming down with something.” Claude gives an indignant yelp when Dimitri holds him close, putting unbearable pressure on his bloated stomach. He squirms uncomfortably before snapping without thought, “You’re hurting me.”

Dimitri lets go of him immediately, wide eyed and, oh, “Shit, no, Dima. I’m fine. I.” Ugh. He rakes his fingers through his hair and finally grits out: “I overate. I nearly made myself sick and my stomach is all bloated and swollen.”

“Your stomach?”

“Don’t look,” Claude whines when he crosses his arms. “You don’t want to.” _I don’t want you to._

“Claude.” Dimitri is smiling, more amused than he has any right to be. “Will you let me rub it?”

“...why?” 

“Why do you sound so suspicious, to help soothe you! What else.”

Claude’s embarrassment crackles to life on his face. “Seriously? Geez… Not gonna let your husband suffer in silence?”

“No. I am still playing catch up with you.” Claude resists the urge to squirm under his knowing tone. “Now take off your cloak. I will spoon you and rub your belly.”

Oh… “It’s hard to argue when you talk like that.” Claude’s voice comes out quiet, almost a timid version of himself. It’s still unusual, being taken care of. His pride hungers sometimes for the early days, where all he had to worry about was Dimitri’s needs, his feelings. Examining his own is tiring, even more tiring showing them to Dimitri. ...But he’s spent too many nights with stomach aches alone, grumpy and uncomfortable, to try and resist him for real. Once Dimitri scents him out, his will to run dries up like a puddle under the sun. 

He takes his cloak off and settles into bed, clothes still on to keep his middle covered. Dimitri tells Claude time and time again he thinks he is perfect, even when he’s exhausted or just rolled out of bed… but Claude still doesn’t want to show him. 

Dimitri doesn’t push him any further and slides up behind him like he promised, delightfully large and warm. It’s easy to feel small when Dimitri keeps him close, warming him even better than the stew he had three helpings of. His big hand is so gentle on his belly, making Claude let out the tiniest moans of relief. He can’t help placing his smaller hand on top of Dimitri’s, lost all over again in their difference in size. 

He really was an idiot, to think he wouldn’t end up here a year ago.

“Does it feel alright?” Dimitri asks him when Claude’s hand holds onto his wrist.

“Yeah,” Claude whispers, “Keep going, Dima.”

Dimitri kisses the top of his head and Claude smiles to himself.


	3. Lingerie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Claude pulls away with an awful grin, no doubt scheming carnal delights… but a scheme all the same.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rated M for Dimitri navigating his Moods, frisky husbands in lingerie, and handjobs. 
> 
> Big inspiration comes from these [pin-up Claude's.](https://twitter.com/m3ll0wing/status/1244092464836853760?s=20)
> 
> Set in my Almyran husbands AU.

Dimitri’s glass shatters when it hits the floor in front of his feet. He barely registers it, mouth left hanging open, all his attention focused on Claude and the delicate lace and silk that provides only an illusion of keeping him warm. He has seen Claude naked, has made love to his husband countless times, but he can’t help the way his eye roams. From his perfectly fitted top with its white ruffles that contrast beautifully with his dark chest hair, to his stockings that do nothing to hide how big and magnificent his thighs are. 

Only three steps into his bedroom and Dimitri is so winded a stray wind could knock him over. 

“Why, Mr. Riegan! I didn’t see you there!” Claude chirps, swishing his nearly see through shawl around his backside. It rests comfortably on his forearms, just like Dimitri wants to rest comfortably all over him.

“Claude... “ Dimitri carefully steps over the mess he made, still gobsmacked. “When did you, I did not think, ah,” he babbles. “I didn’t know you were interested in such things.”

“You know me, always one to explore my whims and luckily this adventure only took me as far as the boutique in town.”

Claude wraps his arms around Dimitri’s neck, teasingly lifting a leg up for Dimitri to hold and obediently, Dimitri does. His fingers dig into the toned muscle he so loves to nuzzle. Wants to nuzzle at his legs now and suck him out of these ridiculous panties. He settles for kissing Claude’s cheek and neck first, warmed further by Claude’s sighs. 

“Hold on,” Claude says.

“Mm?”

“You still have to get dressed.”

“In what?”

“Yours.” He pulls away with an awful grin, no doubt scheming carnal delights… but a scheme all the same. "It’s just like mine but in sky blue, cute, right?”

Dimitri stares like Claude has just said something incomprehensible. It leaves him feeling cold, as cold as Claude’s exposed skin feels. Out of habit he rubs his large hands over to warm him but he doesn’t speak, knowing if he does this conversation will have to continue. 

Claude doesn’t give him a chance to stew.

(Ugh.)

“I know you want to, Dima.”

“You do not.”

“I saw you eyeing the rack behind the gowns when we were last at the shop.” His hands hold both sides of Dimitri’s face. Tender, as much as making sure Dimitri can’t avoid him. “It’s not so different from your blouses, or that cute skirt you wore while we relaxed on the beach. And you aren’t saying no.”

“No,” Dimitri says, just to be a stubborn pain in the ass.

Claude rolls his eyes. “You don’t mean it. You would have come out and said it without me poking you.”

Dimitri blushes, agitated. Lets go of Claude and crosses his arms, a mountain range suddenly springing between them. Claude stands his own ground, hands on his hips. 

“What do you want?” Dimitri finally asks, already hating what his ill temper has turned their evening into. 

“To feel pretty and expensive.” Claude holds out an open palm. “With you. I’m serious about having a good time with you.”

He always is… “I know.” Dimitri relents. Teeth catching his bottom lip. “I can tell you conditioned your chest, you look lovely.” 

“Tell me what you’re thinking,” Claude demands, even while glowing from Dimitri’s attention. 

Dimitri huffs. “ _You_ look lovely. I will not look like you.”

“Well, yeah. You’re taller, bigger, paler --”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“I know you have scars. You can see mine.” Claude takes Dimitri’s hands and places them back on his body. “Nearly all of them. I can’t hide anything in this flimsy thing.”

Claude can and does hide plenty, regardless. Dimitri keeps that smart comment to himself, knowing it is his husband’s way. He’s living up to his promise to open up to Dimitri but he will always be secretive. Always plotting but never Dimitri’s demise, no. Just… this. Exposing Dimitri so thoroughly in ways an enemy could never dream. 

“It will not fit me,” Dimitri tries again. “The garments you have gotten for me, they are beautiful on their own. But something like this is meant to _enhance_ beauty and I am not --”

Claude tugs him down for a kiss, no nonsense, his authority leaving Dimitri weak. 

“I won’t make you do this alone. We’re going to be pretty together, kitten.” 

Together… 

It sounds less lonely than Dimitri floundering in the dark sea of his insecurities, struggling to keep his head above water. His resolve finally crumbles, humbled all over again by Claude’s love and handling of him. 

“Will you… help me put it on?”

“I was planning on it.”

“I might change my mind.”

“I considered that but I’ll keep you plenty distracted.”

“Hah…”

Dimitri barely looks at it in his hands before Claude helps him slide all the pieces on. He’s startled by how everything stretches over him, delicate straps following the shape of his muscles. It’s soft on his skin, what little of it it covers. True to his words, what keeps Dimitri in the moment is Claude touching him. Cupping his pecs when he lifts back onto his toes to kiss Dimitri, winding quick fingers through Dimitri’s loose hair, reminding him all over again they only belong to each other. 

He still avoids the mirror, shaking his head at Claude’s suggestion. Looking down at himself… He doesn’t know what face he makes for Claude to chuckle at him. 

“I told you it would fit. The only chance of it ripping is if I rile you up too much.”

“I’m not sure I have it in me to perform tonight.” 

Claude just smiles. “I know.” He reaches his arms out towards Dimitri. “C’mere, love. We’re being pretty right now.”

Dimitri's brow scrunches up. “I don’t know how to do that.”

“Dima. Just get over here.”

Don’t leave your husband out in the cold, he carries on, so ridiculous, only three feet away from him. Dimitri can’t resist him anyway, eager to feel the press of his body against him. Claude’s ham and cheese act is as real as his desire to keep Dimitri from dwelling on age-old insecurities. The shape of his lips, soft and warm, do just the same. He groans disappointed when Claude breaks away and turns around, lowering Dimitri’s hands down to his hips. 

“You’re already pretty,” Claude says. “What’s wrong in showing off for me a little? Here, like this.” And that’s the only warning Dimitri gets when Claude bends over, his palms flat to the floor, arch of his back positively obscene when his backside presses against Dimitri like a pillar for support. Dimitri forgets how to speak, mesmerized, fingers digging into the soft meat of Claude’s hips. “Minx got your tongue?” He sounds so smug, Dimitri can’t help from picking on him in return.

His hand finds the back of his neck, holding him firmly to listen to the way Claude’s breathing changes. He sighs dreamy and quiet when Dimitri’s fingers slide through and grip his curls. 

“I have my minx,” Dimitri rumbles. 

“Mm, haha... “ He stands up with the pull of Dimitri’s hand. Looks over his shoulder with his hair in his eye, looking soft and loose. Making his hot honey smile all the more potent. “And how will I catch my pretty lion tonight?”

“I can’t…” He manages a bashful laugh. “I would look ridiculous doing what you just did. I’m not nearly as bendy.” He’s flexible, for certain, but Claude moves in ways you’d think he’s boneless. 

“I wasn’t expecting you to. Why don’t you lounge on the bed? Pretend you’re waiting up for me.”

It’s simple enough. He doesn’t know about posing but he acts before his feet glue him to the floor. It’s their bed, nothing unusual about it, but Dimitri finds himself suddenly stiff. More a plank of wood than a man lying down. 

Claude eventually intervenes. “I’m not asking you to be someone else, Dima.”

“I don’t feel like myself. Tell me what to do?”

“Get comfortable. Roll onto your side and…” Claude tilts his head back as he thinks, searching for an image Dimitri can hopefully follow. “Grab your pillow and hold onto it. Pretend you’re waiting for me to come back after ushering every lord and lady I can out the door, because I know you’re buried under the covers waiting for me.”

Dimitri could never forget that night. He moves and sinks back into the bed after wrapping his arms around his pillow, face half buried in it. Remembers ignoring his headache while persistently staring at the door, waiting for Claude to come and touch him… How hard he came just from his hands. He’s still soft between his own legs, flesh unwilling tonight, but he feels his blush creeping from ear to ear. 

Claude approaches him slowly, like he has all the time in the world, shawl left behind on the floor. His hand runs over Dimitri’s side, fingers sneak under a lacy band. Dimitri’s mouth parts, eyes fluttering shut. Claude’s groan is unrestrained, unapologetic. The same sound he makes whenever he finds Dimitri bare and wanting. 

“Gods, you look like a present I dreamed up.”

“What do you think you look like?” Dimitri asks, voice sounding thick. Overwhelmed by Claude’s ardor. Opens his eyes to drink in the sight of Claude’s flushed, hungry expression, how close he is to straddling Dimitri in nothing but slips of yellow fabric. 

“Yours, because you’re mine.”

Dimitri is rough when he pulls Claude down, capturing his mouth in a hot kiss. All clever and not so clever talk escapes them, too busy kissing, Claude’s nails scraping over Dimitri’s back while his hard cock ruts against Dimitri’s stomach. It’s not long before Dimitri slips his hand into the panties Claude’s cock is already falling out of, stroking him tight and watching Claude’s head fling back. Cursing, fingers catching on Dimitri’s lingerie and Dimitri whispers low in his ear, “Don’t rip it, darling.”

It only takes one hand to hold both of Claude’s wrists above his head, leaving his hips to furiously pump into Dimitri’s fist. 

“D-Dima, oh gods, tighter, I’m already, hnn…!”

He bears down harder on his wrists and Claude’s eyes snap open wide, coming with a gasp, making a wet mess of Dimitri’s hand. Like always, Dimitri waits for him to soften before he lets go. Wipes his hand off on the sheet with no fuss. Curls back around him while Claude finds his breath, nuzzling just under Dimitri’s chin. 

“Were you planning on that?”

“Nope,” Claude admits, sighing happily anyway. “I should have, I know how you get when I push your buttons.” The praise button. The adoration button. The making horny noises at Dimitri button. 

Dimitri smiles into his hair. “I have no complaints. Although I will if you plan on us sleeping like this.”

“Oh, no way. If we’re this naked, we might as well BE naked.”

Dimitri chuckles. “Indeed. Mm... “ His hands restlessly rub circles into Claude’s back, thinking of his warm loving palms… “Could you - hold me too?” He’s finally come to the point where it’s gratifying being known, having his needs understood. Claude hums warmly before his hand tucks itself into his panties, gently wrapping his fingers around Dimitri’s soft cock. He sighs deep and low, last remaining knots of tension unwinding in his chest. Feeling loved and cherished, learning to get used to having what he needs.


	4. Feet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Before they shared a bed, he never cared or noticed such things before… but everything is different with Claude, more exciting, more… permissible.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rated M for sweet d/s themes, Claude in high heels, and feet play.
> 
> Set in my Almyran husbands AU.

Dimitri sits back on his heels, flushed and dazed from the image Claude makes. He sits with his legs crossed on the chair in front of him, wearing the shiniest black heels Dimitri has ever seen. He flushes harder, looking at how his toes are exposed, slid through thin straps. Claude is always _teasing_ him with his feet, wiggling his toes like he’s waving at him, rubbing against Dimitri’s legs in bed. 

Before they shared a bed, he never cared or noticed such things before… but everything is different with Claude, more exciting, more… permissible. 

“Dima.”

Dimitri straightens up, shoulders falling back to stick out his chest, bringing attention to the collar happily worn around his throat. 

“Yes?”

A picture of obedience in front of his - owner. Dimitri resists the urge to squirm. This is the most relaxed Dimitri has seen Claude as of late. His hair is free of product and he’s dressed in the loose fitting clothing he favors. His smile too, is easy and warm, making Dimitri feel treasured, eager to see where the evening goes. 

“GIve us a kiss,” Claude says while kicking his top foot playfully. 

Dimitri’s hands tremble where they rest on his thighs. 

“May I hold the back of your calf?”

“Not yet.”

“Ah…” Dimitri shuffles closer on his knees. His hands slide behind his back without thought, clasping together like a good boy. He’s grateful he pulled back his hair beforehand, keeping his view clear when he leans over Claude’s foot, notes how the nails shine and he must have buffed them after their bath… “Thank you,” he whispers, voice turning syrup thick and slow. 

He presses a kiss to the top of his foot before slowly kissing each toe, face burning hotter, fingers squeezing the joints in his hand behind his back. 

Claude sighs above him and carefully re-crosses his legs, giving Dimitri his other foot to kiss. When he’s finished Claude tells him to sit back. He slides the cool tip of his heel down Dimitri’s overheated chest, making him shiver, arch his back. 

“Claude, please...” Dimitri whines. 

“My easy boy, you haven’t done anything more than say hello.”

Dimitri’s cock twitches when Claude calls him easy. His fingers grind between his knuckles in an effort to keep his posture. “I-I know, I will be… patient.”

“WIll you?” Claude cracks a knowing grin. He slides his heel carefully down his belly, careful still when he strokes over the obvious bulge between Dimitri’s legs. It’s enough to press a wet spot through the thin pants. “My messy, needy boy… Show me how patient you can be.”

“Mmph…!”

“And…” Claude strokes over his aching cock again, leaving Dimitri drunk and clumsy before they’ve begun. “If you’re good enough, I’ll let you slide these heels off my feet and suck on my toes.”

“Yes,” Dimitri breathes, or tries to, hot and dizzy where he sits on the floor. 

He’ll be good.

He’ll be so good.


	5. Hands

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dimitri's curiosity gets the better of him. "Claude," he calls out. "What've you been working on all afternoon?"
> 
> "Lubricant."
> 
> "Pardon?"
> 
> "Lube, Dima. You know, for your dick?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rated E for explicit handjobs, homemade lube gone wrong, and Claude's insecure panic response.
> 
> Set in my Almyran husbands AU.

Dimitri's sitting on the floor of their bedroom, study materials for the week laid out, mouth moving slow as he practices incorporating his new vocabulary into his grammar lesson. He's not ready to review with Claude but Dimitri turns to look over at him when something aromatic fills the room. Seated at his work station nestled against his bookshelf, Claude is completely immersed in whatever project he's working on, glass bottles tapping on his desk when he pauses to flip through notes. 

Dimitri's curiosity gets the better of him. "Claude," he calls out. "What've you been working on all afternoon?"

"Lubricant."

"Pardon?"

Dimitri's on his feet and walking over before he thinks, only notices he's moved when he's standing behind Claude's chair to look over his shoulder. Claude turns to quirk an eyebrow at him.

"Lube, Dima. You know, for your dick? We don't want you getting any abrasions."

Dimitri sputters. "That." Feels his hackles rise without knowing why. Maybe he's just tired of his embarrassment ambushing him like a battalion out of nowhere in an open field. Love is proving to be as unpredictable as war. "It's not that bad," is what he finally settles on.

"Don't give me that, Dima. It doesn't matter how much we oil you up, you're still sore after you take me."

"With the way you rile, any man would be sore."

"Gently, too!" Claude tsks. "We've started to switch pretty regularly now and I can guarantee before we even get a year in our marriage you'll hurt yourself."

Dimitri's gears shift in his brain with a sharp jerk, guilt coloring his voice before he can stop it. "I wanted to please you."

"And you do." Claude reads the ever changing tide of his moods with practiced ease. Accompanies his smile for Dimitri with a hand rubbing up and down Dimitri's side. " _And_ I want to take care of you, that way we can keep taking care of each other, we're a partnership, remember? My partner in marriage, in bed, in dance."

"In life." Dimitri adds quietly.

"That's my favorite one."

Dimitri smiles, face flushing pink with pleasure. 

"Have I convinced you?"

Ugh. "Yes. I know that I'm sensitive, I didn't need _convincing_ , per se." He pauses, lips curling down, not a sulk, but contemplative. "I suppose after years of neglect it only makes sense."

"It certainly didn't help but I'd wager you were sensitive to begin with." Claude turns back to his desk, leafing through his notes with a pleased look. "I should have a test sample by tonight though. Everything seems to be coming together now that I've switched base ingredients."

"There was nothing new to try on the market?"

"I looked. Wasn't impressed." Claude turns again, fingers ticking up as he lists off his points. "It's gotta be thick to coat and stay wet enough to last. Smell good for you. Taste good for me. Rather than oil, I think a gel would be perfect."

Dimitri's eyebrows furrow together. "Claude, how many trials have you already made?"

"Not enough worth mentioning!" He grins. Dimitri knows full well he's kept every scrap of testing up 'til now and shudders to think where he's keeping it. "Now shoo! Go back to your homework. Your reward for completing it will come tonight in the form of a slow, luxurious handjob."

His husband's absurdity really is a balm on his soul.

"I can't complain about that."

"Mmhmmm." Claude flaps his hand playfully to shoo Dimitri away. "Now off with you!"

Dimitri obediently returns to his studies.

"Did you try it out already?"

"Just on my hands and it feels great, Dima. Can't wait for you to enjoy it."

Dimitri's skin is already tingling from countless kisses on his neck, Claude working his teeth into the meat of his shoulder. It never takes much for his cock to stand at attention, already stiff and heavy between his thighs. Claude guides his palms down his stomach to his pubis, already has Dimitri sighing loud at the touch. It's a good glide, has Dimitri leaning back into Claude's body where he sits chest pressed to Dimitri's back. 

"Open up your legs, kitten. I want the best view in the house."

Dimitri bites his lip, pinching at Claude's thigh for the tease instead of arguing, already accepting the spike of heat in his gut from the endearment. Claude's hands slow to a crawl until Dimitri's thighs spread apart, wiggling his body back and forth to get comfortable again where he rests propped up on Claude. His palms follows the line of Dimitri's inner thighs and Dimitri's mouth gapes, a moan quietly releasing from his throat.

"Claude... It's getting warm."

"Yeah." He can't see his face but hears Claude's grin all the same. "Nice and tingly, right? Warm you up real good to match that cute blush of yours." His lips find the pink tipped shell of Dimitri's ear. Asserts his point by kissing it. Dimitri squirms impatiently. Doesn't have to be patient, when Claude's got him all laid out like this.

"Touch me."

"In a sec."

Dimitri groans, taking Claude's hand to wrap around his dick himself. Claude doesn't resist him although he takes his time properly wrapping his fingers around his shaft. The squeeze and pump of his hand sends Dimitri's head rolling back, moan tucked low in his throat. The first touch to his sensitive dick always feels like the first time all over again. Claude moves leisurely, fist achingly slow as it passes over the head of his cock, making Dimitri squirm, his hips rocking up unashamed with need. 

"That's it, Dimitri. Spread your legs more. Let me take care of you."

Dimitri can only whimper, letting himself get dragged under the haze Claude's fist builds up in his mind. Sinking into the warm, slick pleasure of his skillful hand. So good. He loses himself to it, always overwhelmed he gets to have this. Pleasure in the arms of a man who adores him, no matter the scars on his skin, the weight of his guilt. 

"Claude..."

Claude hums. Kisses his temple and speeds his hand up. Fuck, it's hot. So hot. Hot. 

Wait. 

"Claude," Dimitri's tone turns urgent.

"Already? Hm? You like it that much?"

"It's burning."

"Huh?"

"My dick is _burning,_ " and it must have set in on his hands too because Claude is pulling away with a hissed curse. There's no time for further questions or comments when they stumble into a mad dash to the water basin. 

"Dimitri, I'm really sorry. I swear I didn't mean to traumatize your dick."

"Claude, I think the world of you but so help me if you come over here -"

"You know what? Fair. Enjoy your nap. I'll be back later."

Claude's notes fall off his desk with a sweep of his arm. They lie scattered on the floor but he doesn't see them, doesn't even see the desk supporting his arms when he drops his face into them. His brain is running fast like a rabbit fueled with adrenaline. Intrusive thoughts overlapping one another like they're trying to win a prize by getting to him first. 

It's not that they never argue. Claude is too nosy and Dimitri too stubborn for every topic to glide smoothly between them... but Claude has rarely had the same person mad at him more than once. He's been left for less. No, that's a lie. He's run far before anyone could leave him. But having Dimitri angry with him scares him in all the ways he wanted to avoid before they got together, scared that Dimitri will pick up the one stray pebble he needs to throw and shatter the fragile glass panes of Claude's insecurities. 

Just like now, Claude has spent too many hours wondering what it would take for Dimitri to leave him, if (or when) Claude indulged too much in his love and left Dimitri withered and dry. He knows better, that Dimitri's heart is a well that never empties, even when it hurts him, even when it poisons him. If Dimitri wanted Claude out of his life he would have said it, but no, all he wanted was space, to be in a different room.

But buried under all those aching thoughts is a fear he doesn't know how to silence. 

_Please don't leave me._

He hates it, hates feeling powerless, and finally rips himself out of his chair in disgust. He needs to do something useful. Claude waits as long as he can make himself, a few hours with his nose buried in books, before returning to his bedroom. Knocking on the door, anxiety lining the walls of his stomach. 

"You didn't have to knock," Dimitri calls through the door and Claude is quick to enter, glass jar in his left hand. 

"Didn't know if you were asleep," he deflects, knowing Dimitri doesn't take well to being woken up suddenly. "I thought my lion might want some aloe? The only thing my sticky fingers did was open up a plant."

Dimitri sits up, still topless, wearing only a light pair of linen pants. Claude's eyes dip towards his groin in concern and he misses Dimitri tugging him down to the bed. When he places the jar on the bed he catches Dimitri's soft frown. His stomach drops.

His voice is entirely too small when he asks, "Are you still mad at me?"

"No." He says it like he's forgotten about it. Takes hold of Claude's hands instead, checking the skin. "You didn't wash very thoroughly earlier, I was worried about your palms."

"They're just a little sore, I'm fine, uh." He watches dumbly as Dimitri unscrews the lid of the jar without fuss, dipping his fingers to get some of the gel. It glides wet and smooth on his palms while Dimitri works it in. "Hey, what about you?"

"Take care of me after," he murmurs, focused on his task. 

Heat ripples over Claude's face, of all things his eyes dart to the nearest window and he thinks about hiking a leg out to escape. He's so - embarrassed. 

"You got the worst of it," he mutters, fingers twitching as Dimitri rubs his hands. 

"You were still hurt," Dimitri says. "I didn't forget just because I was angry."

"Yeah, well... I wouldn't have blamed you." 

Claude thinks he's being brave saying that, until Dimitri's terrible sense of humor completely overshadows him. 

"My cock has always been a sore spot."

Claude laughs before he can help it, calling him terrible while Dimitri smiles wryly.

"You didn't ruin me," Dimitri says. "I don't know when I will be, urm, _up_ for performing again but it's nothing rest and ointment won't fix."

Dimitri is so disgustingly practical. Claude can't count the number of times he's been thankful for Dimitri's frankness. "Next time I'll be more thorough with my trials, try it out on myself."

"No." Dimitri says firmly.

"Not like that," he gestures to Dimitri's groin. 

"Claude, please, I am beginning to feel like a spectacle when you do that."

"I mean, I am a big fan." He can't help himself, cracking a grin when Dimitri rolls his eyes, all while massaging his palms with his thumbs. Keeping the sting out of his exasperation. He sobers when Dimitri finishes up and makes to take care of himself. "Hey, let me do it."

"Ah," Dimitri flushes, caught out. "My hands are already coated so I forgot."

Claude shakes his head. "I won't get upset, let me see."

He's redder than he should be... and he hisses loudly when Claude first touches him, gel cold on his sore cock. He's learned how to slow down with Dimitri, take greater care, and he's gentle as he coats him, massaging the aloe in without overstaying his welcome. He glances up to find Dimitri has tears in his eyes and kisses his cheek, slick hand moving to rest on his pubis. 

"I'm sorry I hurt you," he whispers against his warm cheek.

"I already forgave you," Dimitri whispers back and just like that Claude's worries subside for good, giving him the space to enjoy lying next to Dimitri once again.


	6. Multiple Orgasms

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He grumbles, like he’s been wounded and Claude shushes him, or tries, it comes out more like a wheeze, his crest of Riegan working overtime after his third orgasm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rated E for Claude giving Dima his promised messy marathon sex.
> 
> Set in my Almyran husbands AU.

All too often Claude questions the motives behind the kind words he receives. What debt will he incur by accepting this compliment or that intriguing idea… He learned well in Almyra there is a price for everything and the exchange rate coming into Fodlan still didn’t make it cheap.

So it’s a wonder, on par with natural springs and ancient ruins lodged into the earth, that every gasp and cry from Dimitri’s lips is genuine. When he tells Claude he is magnificent, begging for more, it is only so he can keep calling Claude’s name, melt deeper into their sheets, resplendent, with his soft, pliant hole swallowing Claude’s cock. 

When they fuck Dimitri often claims he is left devasted, ruined, like a field of crops after a hazardous storm… and if he wishes to be his garden, Claude will happily sow his seeds inside him, watch the prettiest pink blossom over his pale chest. 

All too often Claude’s head gets away from him. It kept him away from his previous partners, sexy experiments at best, nowhere near this: Claude pressed slick and heavy on top of Dimitri, his hands bracing his wrists against the bed. Knowing at any moment Dimitri could decide to break free - but he never does. Whimpers and weeps for him when Claude comes inside him again, leaving him so wet he starts to leak when Claude accidentally slips out.

He grumbles, like he’s been wounded and Claude shushes him, or tries, it comes out more like a wheeze, his crest of Riegan working overtime after his third orgasm. 

“Dima,” he sighs. “You’re so wet, but I’ll make you slicker, I promise. I said I’d fill you up.” His fingers slide in without resistance, welcomed like he belongs inside Dimitri. So wet and warm it’s obscene. He presses his leg between his and welcomes DImitri’s tight embrace while they wait for him to get hard again. 

One look into Dimitri’s eyes and he’s come drunk through and through, and Claude kisses his sternum affectionately. The roaring urgency from the beginning of the night has passed. Claude’s determination hasn’t died down, though it has become more leisurely, and their last round will be a gentle one. 

“Claude,” Dimitri whispers and it’s the only word he can say, urgently pawing at his back, wanting to be connected to him again. Dimitri can’t always let go, get to this dreamlike state, but when he does Claude is humbled every time. He is a man full of conviction and might, and he chooses to be underneath Claude. 

“My lucious lion, Dima, ah,” he hisses when his cock enters him one more time, hips undulating into him slowly, carefully. “I can’t believe how long it took us for you to get your marathon.” Any other time, Dimitri would have laughed at him, swat at him embarrassed but still pleased, but Dimitri is too busy moaning, gasping, showing Claude his euphoria at being his vessel for pleasure, his garden ravaged and ravished. 

Claude is still talking, little endearments about how sweet and pretty Dimitri is, nearly mindless as he takes him in. His husband. His total trust in Claude. Claude leans in and takes Dimitri’s mouth, stealing his own name off his lips. 

_Dima_ , he thinks, pure bliss, when he reaches his peak and leaves Dimitri lovingly claimed.


	7. Dirty Letters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The letter was an innocuous thing. Kept tucked inside the pocket of Dimitri’s work shirt, Claude called it a treat for when Dimitri ‘tired of being the strongest man in Fodlan.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rated E for Claude expertly telling his husband what he wants.
> 
> Set in my Almyran husbands AU.

The letter was an innocuous thing. Kept tucked inside the pocket of Dimitri’s work shirt, Claude called it a treat for when Dimitri ‘tired of being the strongest man in Fodlan.’

After helping around the stables all day, he supposes there’s no better time when he takes his seat, letter unfolded and left on his lap while he redoes his ponytail. Claude’s script is deceptively neat and strikes Dimitri swiftly like a knife between the ribs.

_My Sweet Dima,_

_I’m overdo sitting on your beautiful cock._

Dimitri’s hair tie snaps between his fingers, leaving his hair to spill over his shoulders. 

_Have I told you how pretty your cock is? It turns the same red you do, and it warms me as much as it fills me. Perfectly. You hate that word when it’s directed towards you, but it’s perfect all the same. Your perfect cock. I signed thirty reports thinking of you slipped inside of me, staying still, making me feel so full._

_You fill me up so well, Dimitri._

“Claude,” Dimitri croaks desperately, holding the letter close to his face, not wanting even the world to see it. 

_Don’t get me wrong,_

And how is he so _cheeky_ even in ink?!

_Don’t get me wrong, I like warming your cock but I want more than that, beautiful. I want to ride you until you’re wild from it, so wild I have to hold on or you’ll buck me right off. Not that you can, but I’d love to see you try. I want your big hands on my hips and thighs leaving their prints when you try to take back control. I want your pretty filthy mouth telling me how you’re going to fuck your minx._

_Fuck the grin off my face._

_Fuck the thoughts out of my head._

_Fuck me until all I know is you._

Dimitri gasps for breath. 

_Signed,_

_Your Darling Claude_

Dimitri groans loudly into his hands and only groans louder when he remembers Claude is locked in meetings for the rest of the day and he is stuck feeling… Feverish. Going to be horny and miserable until he sees him. 

“Terrible minx.” 

The horse in the other corner of the stable lets out the most derisive snort he’s ever heard and that’s Dimitri’s cue to get to his feet, letter shoved back into his shirt pocket. He seeks out more work he can do on his own, knowing he is going to be haunted by the image of his husband bouncing up and down on his cock, drinking in the power he has over Dimitri…

“Wicked,” he mutters and goes off to one of the gardens. 


	8. Oral Fixation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's a wonder Claude gets any work done at his desk when he pictures Dimitri kneeling between his feet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rated M for Claude fantasizing about his husband's sweet mouth.
> 
> Set in my kingdom husbands verse I share with Meg!

For all Dimitri has grown into the man confidently sitting on his family’s throne, Claude can still see the boy he first met at the Academy, the too proper and stubborn young man who made him lose all sense and self-preservation, sending him tumbling down a hill... that landed him in Dimitri’s arms. The breadth of Dimitri’s shoulders has grown, he wears his hair long, and he’s adjusted to the blindness in his right eye but then he flashes Claude a look... and he’s the boy Claude fell in love with again. 

He once told Dimitri all he had to do was look into his eyes to know how he was feeling and that wasn’t a lie, but like most things with Claude, it wasn’t the full truth either. More than his eyes, Claude takes his cues from his mouth. 

What Dimitri calls his _bad habits._ The way he worries his bottom lip with his teeth, biting his mouth anxiously or when he’s feeling amorous but holding himself back. He’s so obvious but only in front of Claude does he suck on his bottom lip, purse his lips into the sulkiest pout he’s ever seen. 

Lost in admiring the strength of his jaw, the pretty pink of his lips, memories follow of just what his mouth can do… Claude is spoiled. In kisses. In knowing the wet heat of Dimitri's mouth. Spoiled that his Majesty's number one way to relieve stress is to make love to Claude in his office, suck him nice and slow, hugging him with his throat. 

It's a wonder Claude gets any work done at his desk when he pictures Dimitri kneeling between his feet, large palms spreading his thighs, bangs pushed out of his face by Claude's hand he can't keep from trembling out of pleasure. Dimitri so eager to make Claude come so that he might greedily swallow every drop he can spill on his king's tongue.

Claude shuffles his paperwork with a sigh, releasing the heat curling inside of him, cooling his thoughts before he's due in court.

Perhaps he'll let Dimitri know he'll be free for a _consultation_ later this evening.


	9. Fantasy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tonight had been spontaneous, the first time Dimitri came to Claude, and though the evidence is long gone, their seed scrubbed from Dimitri’s skin, left pink and tender from his rough handling, he still feels… 
> 
> Uncertain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rated T for suggestive mentions but mostly emotional intimacy is very hard. 
> 
> Inspired by [this darling Dimitri!](https://twitter.com/pokerharem/status/1320575817781514240)
> 
> Set in a universe where joint route happened but their relationship is very New.

Claude’s chemical burn stretches over his shoulder, wrapping over it like a gray pauldron, stealing Dimitri’s attention for a few moments while he watches Claude fuss with his bookcase, leaving Dimitri alone in bed after promising he would only be a minute. It feels like it’s been an entire moon cycle of minutes and Dimitri snorts to himself, fisting his cloak and furs around him tighter. Tonight had been spontaneous, the first time Dimitri came to Claude, and though the evidence is long gone, their seed scrubbed from Dimitri’s skin, left pink and tender from his rough handling, he still feels… 

Uncertain. Distrustful of the light feeling in his limbs, the way his brain quiets, leaving room to only hear himself speak. In these moments he can’t help but ask who is he, really, and is he good enough, will he ever be good enough with the sin that bloats his soul, will he ever be anything but a danger? 

...and will Claude put down his damn books already so Dimitri can stop feeling so hopelessly alone? 

He’s not subtle when he falls to his side and grumpily rolls towards the fire, letting it warm his front and hypnotize him with its crackling and pops. Surprisingly, he feels the bed dip behind him, a sheepish chuckle just before Claude spoons up behind him, his hand finding his chest to hold. 

Dimitri doesn’t say anything, not even when Claude gently pulls his long hair from his face, and the silence is uncomfortable enough Claude starts babbling, about what he was looking for, about the day coming up, chatter on chatter until he finally slips, awkward when he asks, “You good, Dima?”

“No.”

“Can I help?”

“No,” Dimitri repeats. “I don’t think so.” He stews a second longer before he can’t take it anymore, his sigh hissing out of him. “I felt so wonderful when I came in your arms, so why do I feel so lousy now.”

“Ah, Dima…” Claude moves behind him, and his hand cups Dimitri’s jaw, encouraging him to look at him when Claude sits up on his elbow. “I don’t know why but it happens sometimes.”

“To me?”

“Well, yeah.”

...it has, hasn’t it? He can remember another night, where he felt wonderful tucked tight into Claude’s neck but was left feeling cold by their separation, even though it was only two minutes. The way his mood dropped faster than a crooked arrow…

“You didn’t imagine this when you dreamed of me, did you? That man in your fantasies, you know I am not him. Of course, you know. You had to coax me like a frightened animal into your bed the first time.”

Bitter like tea steeped too long, Dimitri scowls up at the ceiling. Claude strokes his fingers under his chin, quiet before sighing too. “For starters, I coaxed you in like a frightened _man_ , and how do you know what I imagined? You never asked me.”

“...I didn’t want to know.”

He didn’t want to fail before he’d even started. 

Whatever this is. 

Are they lovers? Dimitri isn’t sure. By definition they are but… Claude accepted him when Dimitri came to his room, surprised but… delighted when his face changed, reservations melting away, helping Dimitri undress so slowly. Making love to him until his sheets were soaked with sweat. But again, he was…

“You’re quick to leave the bed,” Dimitri says. 

Claude sits up completely and frowns, looking down at him with his arms on his knees. 

“Did that upset you?”

“I don’t know.” Dimitri feels his frustration mounting and speaks honestly, knowing nothing else. “I do not mind you reading in bed, or tinkering, if you are not ready for sleep. You have an active mind and burn the candle on both ends. But when I am in your bed, I…” It’s hard to admit how… needy he is. “I want you to stay until I fall asleep. Even with the fire, it’s so… cold without you.”

Dimitri looks at him through his bangs and sees Claude’s expression shuttered, looking at nothing in particular. Dimitri has fought by his side too often not to recognize that look, like he is bracing himself for Dimitri to wound him. 

“No one’s… wanted me to stay before. I’m not. Used to it.”

“Do you want to?”

“Yeah,” Claude answers in a rasp that sounds terrified.

“Come here, Claude.” 

Dimitri’s voice is low and soothing and when he wraps his cloak around Claude, who buries in close to him, he feels as if he has sprouted from the earth again, able to see the sky and clouds. Able to provide shelter as much as seek it. 

“I didn’t mean to make you cold,” Claude whispers. 

“I’m not cold.”

Not anymore.

Dimitri feels Claude smile against his neck and he smiles too.


	10. Outdoors

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Well?” Dimitri with an eyepatch asked. 
> 
> “I just can’t choose. It’s a tie.”
> 
> The Dimitri whose eye scar was visible scowled. “You said you would choose who you prefer best.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rated E for Claude having a very explicit and silly sex dream.
> 
> Set in no particular universe, they just in love.

The hammock swayed in a gentle fashion, encouraging the sleep in Claude’s limbs to spread through the rest of his body. Not bothering to resist, he continued to think back on the conversation he’d left just minutes ago. Multiple universes. Branches of fate. The meeting point of science and philosophical ponderings. 

And then in the privacy of his own mind he took a sharp u-turn towards a more simple, promising concept.

Two Dimitris. 

“Mmhmhm…”

With a little chuckle he fell asleep.

“Well?” Dimitri with an eyepatch asked. 

Claude’s lips were tingling and halfway to sore after trading kisses with the two beautiful men. Tucked between them he gave an all too dramatic sigh, like he’d faint at any moment. 

“I just can’t choose. It’s a tie.”

The Dimitri whose eye scar was visible scowled. “You said you would choose who you prefer best.”

“Did I?”

“Yes,” both Dimitris said, eyeing one another with an arm around him each. Claude didn’t want them actually fighting over him but gods, was the thought a hot one. Fondly turning his head to press a kiss under each of their jaws, he gave a playful shove to both their sides. 

“You’ll have to decide between yourselves.”

“What.”

“Claude.”

“Go on,” Claude waved them off, making a show of settling in comfortably on the bed fit for two kings. Eyescar Dimitri sighed while Eyepatch Dimitri scowled. Neither of them moved until Claude spread his legs, resting his palm on his half-hard cock. He rubbed himself slowly, watching them both visibly swallow, adam’s apples bobbing. “It’ll make me really, really happy.”

Dimitri loved to please Claude, after all. 

Next thing he knew Eyepatch Dimitri was yanking Eyescar Dimitri into a kiss. He saw a slip of tongue, large hands going to cup pecs and necks, and he was rock hard, squeezing himself through his pants. “Ohhhh….”

There was nothing cold about the kiss, all hot with the way they consumed each other’s mouth, putting on a show Claude wanted seared into the back of his eyelids so he’d see it every time he blinked. 

He didn’t remember pulling himself out or stroking his cock wet with his own pre-come until he felt the mess on his hand, too enamored with watching Dimitri bite his own throat. When he moaned out loud for the first time, their eyes snapped open. Blue and blind staring him down. 

Claude smiled helplessly, “Hi.”

Eyepatch Dimitri broke away, leaving Eyescar Dimitri to lick his own lips. They shared a quick look that made Claude grip the base of his shaft. 

“Claude.”

“We’ve decided.”

“Yeah? Who won?”

“Dimitri,” they both said, unbearably smug, and Claude squeaked when they reached for him. 

“Oh gods, goddesses, and whatever perverted spirits are watching, _thank you_ ,” Claude said enthusiastically. Overwhelmed by the sight of two blond heads crammed between his spread legs, taking turns licking and sucking his cock. When one was licking under his crown, the other was gently sucking on his sac. Eyescar Dimitri hollowed his cheeks when he sucked the head of his cock, gorgeous and obscene, while Eyepatch Dimitri lapped at the sides of his shaft. 

Claude made sure to keep both his hands busy, stroking their scalps, petting their necks, sneaking a hand down to pinch the nipples of whoever was sucking him so sweet at that moment. 

“So pretty, my two pretty kings are serving me so well… Hhn, I can only come in one of your mouths though.”

Eyescar Dimitri gave an embarrassed smile. 

“Are you sure?”

Claude blinked, startled when they both opened their mouths, tongues pushed out to rest his cock on them. Oh shit. “Oh, shit,” he whispered before he made a royal mess over both of them, catching their chins, noses, and mouths. 

_’If this is a dream, don’t let me wake up until I’m finished_ ,’ Claude thought hopelessly in the greatest sandwich of his life. Eyescar Dimitri laid out under him, knees drawn to his chest, mouth open while he mewled, Claude rooting him with ease. Behind him, he felt Eyepatch Dimitri’s cock filling him to the brim. When Claude couldn’t get his body to move, unable to fathom so much pleasure, Dimitri solved the problem for him, thrusting into him hard, pushing him into Dimitri and making them all sing. 

Any attempt at differentiating the two faded away, just Dimitri hugging his cock, Dimitri stroking his prostate. Dimitri moaning his name. Dimitri begging for more. His forearms shook as he tried his best to hang on, openly drooling and calling out _Dima, Dima, oh fates_ when he felt his peak rapidly approach. 

“You’re so good,” he babbled, “Always so good to me! Need you, I need you, Dima! Love you!” 

“Claude!”

Claude woke up, coming with a sharp gasp, twisted up and nearly falling out of his hammock. The fabric trapped his legs tight enough he was able to avoid landing on his head. Still reeling from his orgasm, he blinked the remaining sleep out of his eyes and sighed in relief when his pulse stopped racing. 

Well, that was a new --

“C-Claude, I…”

That was definitely Dimitri in real life saying his name and not a very naked dream Dimitri. Claude’s head snapped up and his face burst red seeing Dimitri’s lone blue eye wide and alarmed.

“Hey, babe.”

“Are you, were you…?”

“Dreaming about you?” Claude fessed up immediately, not wanting this to get even worse. It was embarrassing getting caught but not as embarrassing as admitting the full truth. “Who else?” _’Besides another you.’_

When Dimitri didn’t move, Claude gave a pathetic swing.

“A little help?”

“Oh, of course, darling.”

Claude shook out his legs once freed, Dimitri keeping him balanced with a hand on his back. 

“I’m fine.” 

His blush refused to leave his cheeks. 

“You certainly look refreshed.”

“Oh, no fair, Dima! You can’t lull me into a false sense of security like that!”

“Let’s go change your pants,” he said in a tone of voice that was worse than laughter. 

“Why couldn’t you just stay scandalized.”

Dimitri snorted. “You’ve worn me down. Come on.”

“One of you is definitely enough,” Claude muttered.

“What was that?”

Claude kissed him instead and felt his blush return when Dimitri brushed his curls from his face. 

One was definitely enough.


	11. Choking

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This whole switching thing is… new. Asking Dimitri for more is frightening and difficult because the multiple tracks running through his brain refuse to agree.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rated E for choking and Claude learning to let himself be spoiled.
> 
> Set in my Almyran husbands Au.

Claude buries his face in his pillow while Dimitri moves around in their room. He feels wonderfully used, rubbing his belly and hips into his bed like he's prone to do after getting so deliciously fucked. The only problem is he still wants… more.

Gods, when did he get so _needy?_

He tries to ignore it, focus on how Dimitri made him scream when he came but it only reminds him how badly he wants his hole played with more.

This whole switching thing is… new. Asking Dimitri for more is frightening and difficult because the multiple tracks running through his brain refuse to agree.

_Dimitri's already done,_ one says. _Don't be so needy, don't bother him._

_I can still ask,_ another reasons.

_But what if he's tired?_

_What if he gets tired of me?_

_I really want him to fuck me again._

Claude is stiff and hard from all his wiggling around and keeps his face in his pillow, "Dima."

"Yes?"

His weight dips back into the bed. 

"Can you finger me?" 

Claude doesn't have time to wait in agony because Dimitri immediately says yes. 

"Want to lie on my lap?"

Claude nods, grateful to be able to hide his face, his cheeks feeling entirely too hot. He's warm with affection when Dimitri settles a pillow in his lap to make Claude more comfortable. 

He's rubbing newly slicked fingers over his hole when he asks Claude if he wants to be choked a little. 

Hhh. "Yeah." Claude's voice is so small, as small as he feels in Dimitri's lap, trying not to hump his pillow already. "Thank you, Dimitri." 

Dimitri's laugh is a low rumble against him, making Claude's toes curl, his mouth gape when he feels his first finger sink inside, his fingers and palm wrapping around the front of his throat.

"Tell me when to stop." 

Claude lifts his left hand out of habit to show him he understands. It drops back down when Dimitri's second fingers spreads him open, his air cut off in the best of ways.

He pants, enjoying the fuzz in his brain, lets himself drool when Dimitri finger fucks him in earnest, keeping the same pressure around his throat.

His left hand comes up and Dimitri releases, letting Claude's lungs get the air they need. Claude is burning up, dropping his hand and begging Dimitri to hold him tighter, cutting off his air abruptly and fuck, fuck, yes, he doesn't see the room anymore while his hips roll, cock working on his pillow and fucking himself on Dimitri's fingers.

"You're so darling like this, I love to see your appetite."

Claude tries to whine but no sound comes out. His hand flies up instead and they repeat, hold and release, until he has Dimitri just hold his throat, wanting him to hear his trill when he comes. Ruining another pillow case.

Dimitri pets his sweaty forehead, and Claude blinks grateful tears out of his eyes. 

He still grumbles when Dimitri shines a light on his neediness but he doesn't make it feel like the death sentence it used to be.


	12. Wet and Messy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dimitri tugs him close, moving Claude like it’s nothing. 
> 
> Claude doesn’t pretend it doesn’t drive him wild.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rated T for drunk shenanigans.
> 
> Set in my Almyran husbands AU.

Surrounded by his deer and Dimitri’s lions for their reception, Claude lets loose. Just a little. Drinking a little more than he should. Showing off his silver knotted wedding band with glee, still surprised to see it on his finger. Never thought he’d meet anyone in Fodlan, much less get married and then months later scheme to deliver the ceremony his sappy romantic husband deserved. 

_Dimitri Alexandre von Riegan…_

He grins to himself, warm from just more than the alcohol and Hilda spots him. At his side with a quip about how he looks like a cat who’s just been declared champion mouser in all of Fodlan. He gives a bow, making her laugh, her face pink when she swats his shoulder. Claude winces at Hilda forgetting her strength but it’s forgotten when she tells him Dimitri is waiting for him just outside. 

“Too much?” Claude checks in when he finds Dimitri leaning against the entranceway. Concerned, for a moment, that the merriment has overwhelmed him. 

“No.” Dimitri tugs him close, moving Claude like it’s nothing. 

Claude doesn’t pretend it doesn’t drive him wild, smiling when he catches himself with a hand on Dimitri’s chest. “What’s my lion up to, hm?”

“I have a regret.”

“About?”

“Our ceremony.”

Claude stares up at him, searching his expression before he lets himself panic, and sees the dark set of his expression, how his ears burn, and he’s drunk, the kind of drunk who will sling Claude over his shoulder and take him to parts unknown and his panic replaces itself with sweet sweet anticipation. 

“Go on,” he practically purrs. 

And Dimitri can’t do coy when he’s sober, so there’s no warning when he hoists Claude off his feet, pinning him to the wall to kiss him, filthy and wet, making Claude groan loud and obscene, heels of his dress shoes already digging into Dimitri’s low back. 

“I didn’t kiss you properly,” Dimitri whispers, intense and big and keeping Claude in his clutches. Claude doesn’t get a chance to do anything but moan again, wet and muffled around Dimitri’s tongue, forgetting about their party inside, only knowing Dimitri kissing him sloppy and wet, making Claude sweat through his clothes. 

“Gardens,” Claude hisses, when his mouth is free. His cock hard against Dimitri’s stomach. “Take me to the gardens, Dima.”

Like a good husband, he does.


End file.
